


The Perfect Compliment

by redknightalex



Category: Final Fantasy XIII
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Seduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-19
Updated: 2011-02-19
Packaged: 2017-10-15 19:03:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/163975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redknightalex/pseuds/redknightalex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lightning hates compliments and flattery in general. It never gets her anywhere useful and, truth be told, some she had never heard spoken of her in general. When she receives one as the sun sets over a sea of sand and tears, everything around her changes, and the powers of her name are put to good use.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Perfect Compliment

**Author's Note:**

> It's entirely bizarre how your mind begins to wander when you're hunting Marks post-game. This "spark" of an idea wouldn't let me go until I was finished with it. Now, I can go back to my hunting.
> 
> Spoilers up to Chapter 11 when you first arrive in the village. Rated M for a high level of suggestiveness and to be on the safe-side (it's more of a 15+).

The place was beautiful. Even with the falling sun, the sea of sand, and the Cie'th that were prowling the streets of a once-beautiful village, Lightning still found it to be oddly peaceful, demanding her full attention, and it was truly was stunning.

The waves that lapped at the shore below were a calming respite from the adventures they had endured throughout the day. Taejin's Tower had been a nightmare, complete with ghosts, dark hallways, and floating spirits, not to mention the numerous trials the party had to overcome just tor each the top tier. The lovely interlude of Sulyya Springs the day before had seemed so far away, a small piece of hope and salvation, and just putting one more foot in front of the other became a Focus all on its own.

It was no small wonder that they made it to the village of Oerba, overrun by stumbling Cie'th and other monstrosities, and even though it had long been abandoned (or destroyed), Fang and Vanille hadn't seemed to care one bit; they just ran for it and all the memories it held for them.

After clearing up the village of the Cie'th and turning the building with a strange robotic device inside into something manageable, everyone decided that here was as good a place as any to take a rest. The sun was setting, the air was cooling, and everyone was exhausted. Even Snow was starting to loose his confidence under the weight of the grueling day and he wandered off to a corner to fix up his bedroll. Just as it normally was, Hope followed him like a lost little boy, staying as close to his savior and destroyer as possible, and put himself near the grumpy old fool.

Lightning surveyed the house from the door, keeping one eye on the entrance and one on everyone else. Sazh and Vanille were looking at Bhakti with keen eyes while Fang took a tour around. Everything was in order, everyone was alright, and with that thought, Lightning had left to find some peace in the cool air and the fading sunlight.

With one hand close to her gunblade, she made her way to the stone wall directly across the courtyard from the house and leaned over it.

For a minute, she forgot about everything. For a time, she was alone with herself, alone with the wind and the setting sun, alone with the sea of sand, and alone with the Cie'th, knowing that maybe, one day, she'd be limping around like they always did. She shivered at the thought and yet she kept it close to her heart. It was more than a Focus now: it was a determination.

She heard light footsteps falling on the graveled path behind her and knew immediately who it was. She let out a breath, hoping that this one person of the whole lot would leave her alone for a minute and keep going, to go do the rounds or something, instead of coming directly to her. If there was anything other than her Focus that could make her head spin it was her and she needed a rest.

When the footsteps stopped just to her left, she let out a breath and bowed her head in resignation. So was how the night would go.

“It's beautiful out here,” Lightning remarked, not entirely caring if her listener would respond or not. The silence was roaring in her ears and even the sound of her own voice was comforting.

“It's all sand,” the voice behind her said casually, “sand that looks an awful lot like tears.”

Lightning nodded. “A sea of sand and tears.”

Fang approached the crumbling stone wall and rested her hands against it, standing closer to Lightning than she normally had in the past, and looked in the same direction as the former sergeant did.

“It is beautiful.”

The two looked out over the sea for a long time, watching the setting sun fade in the distance, until it was almost too dark to see but for the lights coming from their base camp they had set for the night.

“Has anyone told you that you are beautiful?”

Lightning turned at the question, a confused and angered expression molding onto her face. It had come out of nowhere, caught her off-guard, and completely off-balance. How, exactly, was she expected to answer a question like that?

Lightning thought of a good comeback, a retort that would send the other woman just as reeling as their question had done to her, but when Fang glanced quickly in her direction and turned around, the words died on her lips and a soft sigh escaped her. The truth, she found, was slowly starting to become easier to admit to.

“No one except for my sister,” she said with a lift of her head, “I don't like compliments, particularly of that type. They aren't for me.”

Fang snickered, shaking her head at the other woman, hands clutching the wall behind her, and eyes surveying the ground laid out before her. “Not for you? That seems like a rather foolish assumption.”

Lightning crossed her arms tightly. “I prefer traits that would be of a help to my friends, to my charges. Beautiful does you no good on the battlefield. I'd rather prefer strong, swift, smart, level-headed than beautiful.”

Fang mimicked Lightning's expression and looked at her amusingly. “Perhaps, but compliments like 'beautiful' never hurt moral.”

“Obviously you've never had to worry about fraternization amongst the ranks.”

“No, can't say I've ever had to worry about that, my sergeant,” Fang teased lightly.

Lightning shivered at the term, first heard a few days ago, and she didn't like the connotations associated with it. Fang seemed to be playing a game, and enjoying it, but whatever it was that Fang desired, she wouldn't get from her. It didn't matter that this woman, this once-crystallized l'Cie, was sending all sorts of signals to her brain, and other portions of her body, that were detrimental to the mission, but Lightning still had no real way of dealing with this type of emotion, this feeling, this gut reaction that always pulled her closer, even in the midst of battle, to her. It unnerved her yet still she let the game play out.

It was maddening, frustrating, and wonderful all at once.

“Well,” Fang said, interrupting her thoughts, “I think you're beautiful.”

Shocked, numbed, and silenced, Lightning could only stare. She stood and starred like a mindless Pulsework Centurion and not even Fang's laughter could snap her out of it.

“See,” Lightning could hear Fang say through the fog in her brain, “it isn't such a bad compliment after all, especially if I get that face.”

Fang took a hand and cupped Lightning's face with it. “Priceless.”

Then, just as suddenly as it had come, Lightning regained control of her senses, shook the hand away, and went back to her normal stoic expression, turning back to the stone wall and the ocean beyond it. Fang gave a slight laugh, more of an pleased chuckle she thought, and stood just as close as before next to her.

“Why do they call you Lightning anyway?”

“I have an affinity for the lightning spells,” Lightning began, shuddering slightly when Fang tucked an errant piece of hair behind her ear. She focused hard on the words she was saying and tried to ignore the burning sensations that one act was producing within her.“Apparently it's not a common affinity to have.”

Fang stepped a little closer to her, the hand that had caressed her hair making its way down her arm, over the shoulder pads with ease, and down to fingers that tingled slightly at the touch.

“Show me,” Fang whispered into her ear.

Lightning swallowed hard, refusing to show any outward signs of the effect this beast of a woman had on her, or, heavens forbid, the arousal that was beginning to pool within her. She brought up her right hand, closed her eyes briefly before sending out a thunderstorm that shook the ground and killed the ceratosaurs on the bank below. Her fingertips crackling with unused energy, she made a fist, grounded it to the stone wall before her, and tilted her head slightly to make out Fang's features.

A smile was plastered there.

“Magnificent.”

Lightning gave a nod, turning back to the sea of sand and tears, and refused to breathe when Fang took a step closer. Breasts were touching her arm lightly, warm and soft, and suddenly all thoughts of Cie'th, of war, of battle, of Cocoon, were lost in a breathy sigh.

Fang made a turn around Lightning's body, deliberately keeping her own chest in contact with Lightning as she passed around behind her, before appearing to Lightning's right. A hand trailed down her arm, the entirety of Fang's palm pressing lightly against the goosebumps and fine hairs, until it clasped the still sparking hand that had fisted upon the stone. Lightning's breathing, accelerated from the explosive force she had just let loose, but also by the hand she had watched travel down her arm with a firm tenderness she had never felt before, was beginning to give her away and Fang was entirely too aware of it.

“I see why you like it,” Fang said, entwining Lightning's fingers with her own, taking silent possession of the power held there, and tugged it away from the wall, making Lightning turn slightly.

For a silent moment, the two were oblivious to the sounds of monsters and Cie'th wandering around, to the giggles and overall nonsense of their party making up camp in one of the old and abandoned buildings of the village for the night, and they stared at each other, one smiling, one clenching her jaw tight.

Fang, with a solid hold over Lightning's fingers now, brought it slowly up to her mouth, took a still-crackling index finger between her lips, and let the energy flash through her. With closed eyes, she savored the taste of sweat, power, water, and another, less identifiable one that made every sense heightened. It felt, tasted, like battle, and suddenly Fang was ready for anything.

Lightning watched all of this, the movement, the sight of her finger being enveloped by a hot, velvet mouth, and caressed by an unseen tongue, produced a growing haze that wrapped around her. She couldn’t concentrate, couldn't breathe, couldn't see anything but for the mouth, her finger, and the emotions that played easily across Fang's face. All thoughts in her head, all the plans and tactics for the next morning were forgotten, as her arousal increased and she knew that soon, very soon, it would be unavoidable and she'd have to admit to the one thing she had fought so hard to deny. Denying this would soon become harder than any Focus she'd ever have to complete and yet, as the finger was slowly let go with a flick of a tongue across the calloused pad, she wondered if this moment, this one second in time, this one position of an army, was worth the condemnation of being a Cie'th for the rest of her unwordly life.

When Fang let her finger go, both of them were breathing heavily, the space between their bodies having slowly evaporated.

“I think the name suits you,” Fang said with a certainty Lightning didn't feel and with a steady beat that only Fang could pull off in a situation such as this.

Lightning, still reeling from it all, said nothing in return.

Fang let her eyes roam over Lightning's body, unhindered by other eyes or the threat of attack (for what insane creature would mess with a thunderstorm of that intensity and passion?), lust filling her eyes for all the worlds to see, before slowly coming back up to rest upon Lightning's.

“I wonder what else you could do with all that energy you have pent up, Light.” Fang began, pausing to think before taking a breath, the slight groaning noise she made as the air was pulled into her lungs making Lightning weak at the knees.

Suddenly, Fang pressed Lightning firm against the low, stone wall, hands at her hips, a hard thigh sliding between hers, and lips resting close to her ear. The words that were spoken next were ones she knew that she would never forget and were never to be spoken any higher than a whisper, than a husky command spoken intimately in the dark of night. These were private, passionate, and vulgar words that had her falling into the comfort of Fang's body.

Her defenses lost, her brain brought down by a fog, and her limbs shaking and quivering from a storm much like the one she had recently created, all unraveled the once proud, stoic warrior into a quaking mess. Arms clutched at bare biceps, wrapping her long fingers around the strong muscle she found there, and tried to pull the strength out of them. She felt herself slowly come undone.

When Fang pulled back, her eyes hooded and dark, Lightning swallowed before quietly gasping for air as if it had all escaped her.

“Want to find a place of our own for the night?” Fang whispered hoarsely, the words she had spoken only moments ago still ringing in Lightning's ears.

When words would not come, she gave a slight nod.

“I'll tell the others to take up watch,” Fang began as she slowly extracted herself from Lightning's embrace, “and I'll say that we're going for a small...hunt.”

With a wink, Fang turned and made towards the others, hips swaying like a siren's song as Lightning watched her go. Then, with a new-found determination, she made for another house, one she knew the others weren't in, and let the delicious energy flow through her arms and down to her fingertips. For once her name would be put to good use outside of battle and, she was quite sure, this experience would be one worth savoring.

Perhaps “beautiful” wasn't such a bad compliment after all.


End file.
